Slipping Away
by Moondoggy
Summary: Set Post-GoF. Sirius is depressed. Again. And his behaviour is making life hard for Lupin. rating due to suicidal themes and stuff. No slash. Enjoy!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Do I really have to tell you who owns this stuff? Well, for one thing it aint me.

 The house belonging to Remus J Lupin was a typical suburban building, even for a wizarding village, with well-manicured gardens, a footpath leading to the door and a letterbox emblazoned with small bronze letters spelling out 'Lupin' and a number 5. Inside it was just as normal. The rooms were cozy and welcoming, brightly lit through large windows. Flowers bloomed in the garden beds, clumps of scattered color mixed with countless greens. Sirius Black stood at the front gate, gazing at his friend's home, and his for as long as he needed. It was now two years since his escape and He was still a fugitive, forced to hide in his canine disguise outside of Lupin's house. As far as the neighbors were concerned, he was simply Lupin's new pet. The only thing they feared or were suspicious of were his teeth. 

As he stood at the gate, pondering this and looking at the welcoming scene before him, Sirius briefly wondered how a worthless person such as himself had come to live here, in such a nice place to be cared for by a friend such a person did not deserve. 

With a sigh, he trotted up the path and, checking that no one was about, shed his canine appearance and slipped inside. He could hear Moony humming to himself in the kitchen as he prepared dinner. Not hungry, Sirius hung up his cloak and started climbing the stairs to his room. 

"Padfoot, that you?" Remus emerged from the kitchen and looked up at his friend.

"Sorry I'm late, got sidetracked by a fire hydrant," Sirius replied, one corner of his mouth turning up in the slightest of smiles. Remus chuckled at the joke, glad to see a glimmer of the old Padfoot shine through this new solemn exterior.

"You hungry? Dinner's almost ready."

"No thanks Moony." Without waiting for a reply, Sirius turned and continued up the stairs. He entered his own large bedroom and picked up the box of matches on the desk. He lit the candles placed around the room, and slumped onto his bed. The candlelight was comforting, chasing the darkness into the corners and casting dancing shadows on the walls.  Sitting up, Sirius pulled back his sleeve to reveal the pale flesh of his wrist. Thin white scars marred his wrist and forearm, a reminder of the abuse he had inflicted upon himself since his escape. He remembered the abuse well. It had been barely a year ago. He was living at Moony's as he was now, and he remembered how he had relished the pain, a physical distraction from the mental anguish he still endured. 

He ran a finger over the white lines. 

Remus had found him kneeling in the back garden, his left arm soaked with blood and the knife on the grass to his right. 

Sirius sighed, almost cringing at the memory.

Remus had dragged him inside like a disobedient teenager, taking the knife from him. He had bathed the wounds and bandaged them, unable to do much else as his knowledge of healing spells was limited to mosquito bites and cat scratches. Then Moony locked away all sharp objects and even went so far as to refuse to even let Sirius spread jam on toast unless he was nearby. When Remus was not there, he put locks on the cutlery drawer and the garden shed that could not be opened unless Remus asked them. He had even insisted that Buckbeak be sent away until Sirius could be trusted around such a dangerous creature, no matter how much of a bond they had formed.

Sirius grimaced and rolled his sleeve back down, once more covering the scars. Remus had been so angry with him for cutting himself. He recalled the harsh words and threats he'd received. That was why he had stopped. He could not stand to see that look on Moony's face again; that mixed look of hurt, anger and confusion. 

Today had not been a good day, even compared to the other bad days he had suffered in the past. Recalling how much he had hurt his only remaining friend made him hate himself all the more. He lay back down and watched the shadows flicker in the candlelight, mentally abusing himself and despising everything that was Sirius Black. How long he lay there, drowning in the depths of his depression and self-hatred he did not know. Eventually he drifted into a restless sleep filled with troubled dreams. 

Remus climbed the stairs with the slightest pangs of worry tugging at his mind. He had not heard a sound from Sirius's room for over an hour. And dinner was ready. He pushed open the door and stepped into the gloomy room. There was Sirius, curled up on his bed, shivering in the cold wind that blew in through the window. Or was it from some unseen terror in his own nightmare? Remus watched for a moment, waiting for his anxiety to settle as he listened to his friend breathe and finding relief in the simple fact that Sirius was still alive. Quietly, he tiptoed over to the window and pulled it closed. He gently laid a blanket over Sirius's shivering form. The man's body relaxed and the trembling stilled. Remus sighed and felt a lump rise in his throat as he looked at his sleeping friend. 

The candlelight flickered over Sirius's face, highlighting lines far too numerous for a man in his mid thirties and the dark rings beneath sunken eyes. That face was thin and pale and rarely smiling, so different from the Padfoot he had known. He knew Padfoot the marauder was dead, smothered by the darkness of a mind that would not let him move on from past losses.

 In his heart, Remus knew that Sirius would never be the same, would never overcome this depression, but he prayed and hoped to anyone up there who would listen, that this depression would not destroy him.

With the wave of a wand, the candles flickered and died, plunging the room into darkness. Remus stepped out and closed the door behind him. Unable to fight it any longer, he lent on the door and slid to the floor, letting silent tears slide down his face. Every day it was becoming harder to believe that Sirius would see the end of the one that followed. And no matter what he did, Remus could feel his friend slipping further and further away from him.

A/N: More Sirius angst. Do I ever write anything else? Oh well. Reviews are greatly appreciated. Constructive criticism only, of course. Flames will be laughed at before being used to burn my report card before my parents see it and ground me for life.  


	2. Losing Control

Chapter 2:

Sirius was woken the next morning by a shaft of light streaming through a chink in the curtains. Groaning, he sat up, wiping sleep from his eyes. Brushing a stray lock of hair from his face, he glared halfheartedly at the sunlight and sighed. "Another day…" Pushing back the blanket, Sirius smoothed out his clothes and left his dark sanctuary and made his way downstairs.

The sounds and smells of breakfast drifted from the kitchen accompanied by the clinking of plates and cutlery. Sirius sat down at the table and flipped through the pages of the Daily Prophet. It was all the same stuff really. The usual article about Harry was as absurdly wrong as ever. Obviously the new reporter, employed in the place of Rita Skeeter while she was "missing", was just as bad as their predecessor.  Sirius read the article, merely raising one eyebrow at the pure ridiculousness of what they were accusing Harry of this time, and pushed the paper aside. He could not go to Harry himself. Hogwarts was being watched too closely after the events of the Triwizard tournament. The grounds were crawling with ministry officials. It would be suicide. Dwelling on thoughts of his godson, and how Harry could need him now and he couldn't even be there, Sirius began to descend once more into self-hatred. But he was not allowed to dwell there for long.

"Morning Sirius." Remus placed a plate of bacon, eggs and toast in front Sirius and sat down opposite him with his own breakfast. Sirius looked up, startled out of his dark reverie. 

"What? Oh, hello Moony." Sirius' eyes drifted over his friend, taking in every detail of the familiar face. Remus' eyes were slightly puffy and bloodshot, despite his now cheerful expression. Had he been crying? Sirius sighed, with more guilt added to his already unbearable load. Remus didn't notice Sirius's concern, as his eyes were downcast as he began eating. Sirius looked down at his own breakfast and began pushing the contents around the plate with his fork.  

"Don't you like it?" Remus asked, half jokingly, after Sirius had spent at least a minute toying with his breakfast. 

"Oh, no it's fine." Sirius swallowed a small mouthful and forced a smile. Remus smiled back encouragingly. But Sirius could not stomach another and he pushed his plate away. Remus pushed it right back. 

"Come on Padfoot, you've got to eat something. You didn't even have any lunch yesterday."

"Sorry, I'm not hungry."  Sirius pushed back his chair and got to his feet. Remus watched him go. He knew it was useless to argue. 

"I'll leave some out for you in case you want some." But Sirius made no sign that he had heard.

Sirius flopped down in an armchair by the fire and picked up a book from beside it. He immersed himself in the book for a good ten minutes when he was once more interrupted. 

"Padfoot, I've got to go to work now. Will you be okay?" Sirius looked up from the chair. Remus was startled by the look he saw in those dark eyes. There was no familiar spark of mischief or excitement. He had been sure that spark had been almost visible just a year ago, after his escape from Hogwarts. But now his eyes were dull and sunken. They looked almost…dead. It was like looking at a corpse. But that frightening, empty glance lasted only a moment before Sirius cast his gaze back to the pages in his lap. 

"If – if you need anything…you will call me, right?" Sirius nodded, but this time he did not look up.

Remus sighed and, knowing there was no more to be said, left.

Outside, Remus paused and looked back. Try as he might, he could not shake the image of that haunting gaze from his mind. That look, the one he had only seen one other time, the first and only time he'd visited Sirius in Azkaban. It was so…hollow. The look of a man who can see nothing good to come, and can find no way out. Remus just prayed that Sirius lived to see the end of today, and that he knew that he wasn't completely alone. That he had at least one friend who cared for him, and how much it hurt to see him like he was.

                                                                        ******

Sirius waited until he was sure Remus had left before he put down his book and left the comfort of the chair. He had not missed Remus's brief look of fear and possibly even revulsion when their eyes had met. And that look had hurt. He climbed the stairs to the bathroom and, for the first time since coming to Moony's home, really looked at his reflection. Surely he'd gone almost back to normal appearance-wise by now. Surely his appearance was almost the same as it had once been. He knew he wasn't as emaciated as he had been and his hair was cut neatly to just above shoulder-length and was no longer matted. Slowly, he raised his eyes to the mirror…

"That…that's me?" 

His voice caught in his throat. The face that he saw was terribly pale. Deep lines were etched on a face that looked much too old to belong to him. His black shirt hung loosely from his shoulders, hiding his terribly thin body and the belt on his jeans was in the last hole, as tight as it would go. There were even a few strands of grey in his hair. But it was his eyes that shocked him most. Ringed by dark shadows, they were dull and lifeless. He was a thirty-five year old man in a body that had aged too fast, with a mind that hadn't aged fast enough to catch up.

Tearing his gaze from the horrible reflection, Sirius went into his room and grabbed one of the framed photographs on the shelf. In this picture he saw what he had once been. A young man in his early twenties grinned at the camera. An unruly black fringe hung in his smiling face. His eyes were not empty or sunken but full of life. Hooded by dark lashes that he remembered being teased about by the other boys at Hogwarts, the corners were crinkled in a broad grin, and though they appeared almost black, they shone with a mischievous spark. This was how old he had been when they took him away. 

An icy band tightened around his heart and he felt his eyes burn as he looked at the other person in the picture. Remus, with an arm about his shoulders, was grinning just as broadly. Sirius knew he had hurt Remus more than he'd ever hurt any other friend. Here was a man who cared for him like a brother, who had gone through so much alone because of him, yet he still had time and energy enough to deal with his crap and be there when Sirius needed him most, risking everything in the process. And Sirius had been too selfish and involved in his own dark problems to see it until now. 

He slumped down onto the bed and gazed sorrowfully at the picture in his hands, missing and longing for what he had once known and would never know again. All because of him.

Sirius sighed and shook his head, absentmindedly rubbing his scarred wrist. It didn't matter how much he wished he could go back, how much he wanted things to be the same between him and Remus. Too many years had passed, and too much had changed. Things could never even come close to what they once were. 

How long he sat there, lost in memories and dreams of what was and might have been, Sirius could not say. But soon all the guilt and grief and longing clamoring inside his brain became too much. Still fingering the scars that marred his wrist, Sirius got to his feet. Slowly, almost trancelike, he descended the stairs. The breakfast leftovers were on the bench in the kitchen, just as Remus had said. But Sirius ignored them. A knife lay beside the sink, obviously left out after Remus had washed up. Sirius had known it was there, he'd seen it that morning. He took it and held it up, watching the sunlight glint off the blade. Then, slipping the knife into his pocket, he returned to his gloomy sanctuary. 

He pulled the dark curtains shut and closed the door. Kneeling on the floor in the center of the room, he took the knife from his pocket. His hand trembled slightly as he raised it to his forearm.  

He did not feel the pain. It was dulled by the thousands upon thousands of thoughts racing through his tortured mind. Guilt, regret, memories, confusion, fear…

Several times he ran the razor sharp edge of the knife along his pale forearm. It was a long while before he regained control enough to stop. He paused suddenly, the knife halfway to his arm. Slowly, he began to emerge from his trance that had lasted a mere hour.  His vision cleared and he saw the damage he'd inflicted upon himself. The knife in his right hand was blood-tipped and his left arm was a mess. Bloody wounds marred his pale skin and a red stain was spreading on the carpet at his knees. Still he did not feel the pain. Then something on the floor nearby caught his eye. It was the picture. The face of Remus Lupin stared up at him from the paper. 

The knife slipped from Sirius' fingers and he tore his eyes from the accusing face of his best friend. He knelt in silence for a moment, uncountable emotions building up inside until at last they broke out. Cradling his mutilated arm, Sirius threw back his head and screamed. He screamed until his throat was sore and his voice no more than a rasping whisper. Tears coursed down his face and dripped onto his arm and the floor, mingling with the blood. Minutes dragged on into hours and still he knelt there, cradling his arm and sobbing his apologies. It was late afternoon by the time he was calm again. 

Silently, he got to his feet and made his way into the bathroom. He bathed and dressed his wounds as best he could. They would heal in time, leaving no more than white lines in their wake. Then he returned to his room and changed into clean clothes. The bloodstained ones he threw away. He pulled on a sweater to cover the bandages and took the knife downstairs to clean it. By the time this was finished, Sirius was completely exhausted. He felt dizzy and tired and his legs felt as if they were going to collapse. He staggered up the stairs and stepped over the stain on the carpet. He'd cleaned off as much as he could, but the stain remained, a pale red-brown reminder of his pain. There was nothing he could do about it and he didn't much care. Collapsing onto the mattress, Sirius sighed and lay in silence for a moment, too exhausted to feel anything. His eyes drifted closed and he knew no more.

A/N: There's a second chapter? Of course there is. Life really sucks at the moment so there's plenty of depression to go round. Anyway, if you liked it, or even hated it, please donate a review *shakes review tin*. 

Disclaimer: You know who owns this stuff. For those who don't, I'll give you a clue. It sure as hell isn't me.


	3. Stained

A/N: Wow, there's a third chapter to this? You didn't think I'd leave it there, did you? Nope. My depression aint done with me yet. Remus's PoV this time. Lycanthropy and angsty musings abound. Yay.

The sun was just sinking behind the trees by the time Remus made his way home from his teaching job at a local primary school. He looked up at the sky, tinged with red and gold by the setting sun. It would be dark soon. The moon would be up in just a few short hours. Remus shuddered and tightened his grip on his briefcase, casting his eyes to the ground. 

Already he could feel the wolf stirring inside him, its soulless, instinct-driven mind nagging at his own.  

He quickened his pace and at last he slipped through his front gate and into the dark, familiar confines of his home. 

Making his way into the kitchen, Remus fished a small brown paper bag from inside his jacket. He tipped it over an outstretched hand and a small phial of liquid fell onto his palm. This was the reason he was late getting home. The wolfsbane potion couldn't exactly be bought at the nearest K Mart. One had to know just the right people to be able to get their hands on it, and even then it could be difficult, and expensive. 

Pouring the steaming concoction into a glass, Remus downed the lot, grimacing at the bitter taste. Almost instantly, the ruthless mind of the wolf calmed and receded. He left the glass on the bench and turned to leave. Sirius's breakfast was still there, untouched by anyone but the ants. He checked the living room. The chair was empty, Sirius's book lying open, facedown on the arm. It struck Remus then how silent the house actually was. 

"Sirius?" Remus' anxious voice rang eerily in the silence. There was no reply. "Padfoot? Hello? Anyone home?" 

He climbed the stairs, a knot tightening in the pit of his stomach. Sirius's bedroom door was ajar and Remus tentatively pushed it further and peered inside. There was Sirius, asleep just as he'd been the day before, curled dog-like among the thick blankets and pillows. Occasionally he would whimper, lost in some dream, but there was a sort of sad smile on his face that Remus only saw when they talked of James and the marauders. A similar smile crossed Remus's lips and he turned to go. He did not see the stain. Hidden by shadows that stretched across the room, it remained undiscovered for now. But Remus's smile vanished as he turned, his face contorting with pain. Doubling over, he gasped and clenched his teeth, biting back cries of pain that escaped as muffled whimpers. Outside it was dark, and the moon was rising.

Remus felt the sickening feeling of his bones grinding and shifting, changing shape and size. Now curled in a trembling ball on the floor, clenching and unclenching his hands, Remus endured the familiar agony that tore through his body. At last, his whimpers calmed, becoming nothing more than a quiet whining deep in his throat. The transformation was complete. 

He lay there, panting heavily for a moment, waiting for his vision to clear. Then he lurched to his feet and shook his head. His clothes lay in tatters around his paws and scratches gouged the walls where he'd raked them with his own nails. But the changes were merely physical. Thanks to the potion, he had retained his human mind. And for this, Remus was immensely grateful.  The black market stuff could be a bit unreliable sometimes. 

"I'll feel that tomorrow," he thought bitterly, glancing down at the long claws that tipped his paws and back at the wall. His own nails would be a painful mess in the morning.  With a sigh, he began to make his way towards the stairs, pausing to pick up a TV guide from his own room. Late night TV wasn't exactly the best in the world, but it kept him from being bored. And Sirius didn't look up to a run around town, not that Remus would've had the heart to wake him anyway.  But he never made it downstairs. As he trotted past Sirius's doorway, his heightened senses caught a trace of a familiar, coppery smell. 

In an instant, all thoughts of the Late News and Jerry reruns vanished. The TV Guide dropped from his jaws.  Nose to the ground, Remus pushed his way into Sirius's room, following the scent. Even with the potion, the presence of the wolf's mind was noticeable, nagging at the edges of Remus's consciousness, excited by the smell of blood.  Even before he found the dark red stain he'd guessed.  The thought had entered his mind the moment the smell had reached him.  He pictured the untouched plate on the kitchen bench, right beside a clean knife.  

All the same, the knowledge of what had happened didn't reduce the hurt and anger that surged through Remus's veins at the sight of his best friend's blood encrusting the carpet. 

He sat down heavily, a million thoughts racing through his brain. But one stood out above the others.  Sirius wanted to leave.  For all the shelter, sympathy and friendship Remus had shown, Sirius wanted to get away from it all – away from the ministry, away from Voldemort, away from him.  At that moment Remus hated his wolfish form more than ever.  He wanted to cry, to scream, to grab Sirius by the collar and demand an explanation.  But all he could do was bare his teeth and suppress the howl that welled up inside him.  He glared back down at the stain at his paws and growled deep in his throat.  "Fine," he thought angrily, "that's it then.  I've done all I can for him.  I've offered him shelter, food and friendship, and if he wants to shut me out that's his choice.  I give up. You're on your own, Sirius." He got up and made to leave, taking one last look around the room.  In doing so he caught sight of the picture on the floor a short distance away from the stain.  The two smiling boys looked up, their faces unchanged by age or pain; forever trapped in a single, wonderful moment.  Remus looked down at the younger version of himself, still with his arm around Sirius's shoulders.  For a brief moment memories flashed through his mind like high speed movies.  He'd always been protective of his friends, always worried when his friends, especially Sirius and James, did something dangerous or stupid.  He'd practically had a heart attack the day they told him their plan to become Animagi.  In years that followed Sirius would laugh, saying that he'd stopped breathing for about a minute.  And Sirius and James would always be there for him the morning after the full moon, waiting in the hospital wing for him to wake up. James would be grinning at him sleepily with his glasses askew, and Sirius would be wide-awake, usually still with leaves stuck in his un-brushed hair, eager to plan their next adventure.

A mixed emotion filled Remus as he was jolted back to earth.  Part happiness, part longing and part terrible sadness.  He looked once more at the picture and felt his anger diminish.  Sirius was his brother in all but blood.  Even from the beginning Sirius had been like a younger brother, and there'd been a time when he'd risked everything for Remus's own happiness.  And now he was the one who needed someone to do the same.  

Behind him, he heard Sirius cry out and one pale hand reached beyond the blankets, reaching for something – or someone – visible only in his dreams.  This triggered something inside Remus.  To him the decision was plain.  As long as Sirius needed his help, whether it was accepted or not, Remus would give all that he had and more.  And maybe, however small the chance might be, he'd have some semblance of his old friend returned to him.  But now he had to face the problem of keeping him alive an in one piece until then.

He leapt effortlessly onto the bed and lay down at Sirius's feet like an oversized guard dog.  Using his teeth he pulled one of the blankets over himself and wriggled under it until all but his neck and head were covered.  Through half-closed eyes he glanced at Sirius, sleeping peacefully now. 

It was still early and sleep was a long way off for Remus, so he sat alert at the foot of the bed. The smell of blood still filled his nostrils, a constant reminder of how close to the edge Sirius really was and how close he could have come to ending it all.  As dawn approached Remus felt exhaustion creeping up on him.  His mind began to wander and his senses dulled.  But he brought himself back to earth and remained alert and awake, not daring to rest his eyes for a moment, afraid that if he did, Sirius would be gone when he opened them again.

A/N: Hmm, short 'n' crappy. I'll update this as soon as I can, but since I don't have the internet myself anymore and am forced to use the school computers I guess that still might be a while. I swear the library woman's a bloody nazi with them. And any ideas would be greatly appreciated, as I'm not really sure where to take this.  And as always, review *holds out review tin and does bambi eyes* pweese? 


	4. The Morning After

The room was still quite dark, despite the fact that the sun was already climbing.  Sirius groaned and rolled over to glare at the clock on his bedside table.  The glowing green letters told him it was just past nine.  So did the clock, in its tinny, irritable voice.  Sirius ignored its mutterings and simply knocked it onto the floor.  

Scratching idly at his bandages, where the edges had frayed, Sirius moved to pull himself up into a sitting position but found something holding him back.  Looking down towards his feet, he could see a pale hand clutching the hem of his jeans.  The nails were broken and bloody and the knuckles were white, a mark of just how tight the grip was.  

Remus, human once more, was still dozing at the foot of Sirius' bed, the blankets drawn up about his shoulders.

Sirius' heart sank.  There was no doubt about it now.  Remus knew.  And he'd stayed with him all night, probably awake until the early hours of the morning.  That was just a "moony" thing.  He'd always forego his own well-being for a friend's.  But this wasn't what Sirius meant to happen.  He didn't want Remus to find out.  Didn't want to hurt him.  Whatever harm Sirius may have wished to cause himself, nowhere in his heart did he want to cause his only remaining friend any pain.

Feeling utterly wretched, Sirius sighed and gently pried open his friend's fingers and withdrew his leg.

~*~

When Remus opened his eyes, he immediately felt cold panic creeping up on him.  He vaguely recalled the change.  The change back to human was never quite as agonizing as that to wolf.  It felt more like a relief than anything else and he'd drifted off right after.

His brain faintly registered a stinging pain in his hands, but all he could focus on was the fact that Sirius wasn't there.

He heard the sound of movement downstairs in the kitchen.  Someone was rummaging through cupboards and drawers.  The rattle of cutlery and clinking of plates drifted through the floor.  Something crashed to the floor, followed by the sound of clashing metal.  A yell of pain and a string of curses rang out above the noise.

Then the fear set in.  "Oh God," he murmured.  "Sirius!"

Remus leaped to his feet.  Hastily pulling on a pair of jeans and keeping the blanket around his shoulders, he fled the room.

~*~

"Ah!" Sirius leaped back, hopping on one leg, grimacing in pain.  The plate lay smashed, scattered around several pieces of cutlery on the floor.  Sirius glared at them, still hopping.  "Shit!" He said.  "Fuck! Crap! Damn! Bugger!"  He knelt, still grumbling, and began to clean it up.

"Sirius!" 

Sirius jumped, slipping and cutting his hand on what was left of the plate.  He was back on his feet, or foot in this case, and facing the source of the cry.  Remus was standing by the bench, leaning on it, breathing hard.   Sirius felt a pang of guilt as he looked at his friend's tired face.   He looked terrible, and should still be sleeping off the transformation.  

"I'm sorry Moony," Sirius said, looking sheepishly around him.  "I didn't mean to wake you up."

Remus almost laughed.  The person who was apologizing for waking him was the same person who had kept him up worrying practically every night for the last few months!  As far as Remus was concerned, Sirius was solely responsible for at least a dozen of his grey hairs.  But he kept these things to himself.  He eyed the mess on the floor, especially the knife, similar to the one from the day before.  

"I, I was hungry.  I wanted to make breakfast and…" he waved his arm at the mess at his feet and smiled nervously.  "Sorry."

Remus felt a flash of anger when he caught a glimpse of the bandage, revealed by the sudden movement of Sirius' arm.  But the feeling quickly dissipated and he was left feeling drained and empty.

"I'll clean it up now," Sirius said.  He kneeled down and resumed his task, ignoring the stinging cut on his palm and the dull pain in his foot where the plate had landed.  

"No, Sirius.  We need to talk."

Sirius didn't answer.  He just continued picking up miniscule pieces of porcelain from the tiles.

"Sirius, don't do this."

No answer.  Remus sighed.  This had always been a sort of "padfoot-ism", avoiding potentially awkward conversations by pretending not to listen.

"Sirius!" 

Remus knelt beside him and put a restraining hand on his arm.  Sirius winced as the fingers brushed his forearm and Remus jerked his hand back.  

"Sirius, come on.  You can't avoid this forever."

Sirius sighed and got to his feet and followed Remus to the breakfast table.

"Fine," he said, defeated.  "Whatever."

~*~

Remus watched Sirius from his place opposite him, taking in every nervous twitch, every glance to the door, and every time his hands strayed to the frayed edges protruding from beneath his sleeve.  He'd never seen anyone he'd cared about like this.  Sure, they'd been through their fair share of depression and even cutting within the marauders, much of it done by Remus himself, but this ran much deeper.  

"Sirius," he began, trying to keep a waver out of his voice.  "What's going on?"

"Nothing." Sirius lied.  The irrational part of his brain held onto the idea that maybe Remus didn't know at all.

"Don't bullshit me!" Remus' eyes blazed for a moment, before he returned to his usual, calm self.  "I mean, Sirius, that I know about…you know…" he gestured to Sirius' arm.  It was still difficult to say.

Sirius looked guiltily down.  "Nothing's going on…I just…" He trailed off.

Remus looked him in the eye, saying nothing, as though trying to read what was going on in Sirius' mind.  But he might as well have asked the alarm clock, for all the information he got.  Sirius held his gaze for a moment before looking away.  There was a moment's more silence and then Remus asked the question that had been plaguing his mind all night.

"Why?"

Sirius paused before answering, "I don't know."

"Oh come off it, Padfoot!" Remus fought to keep his voice from rising.  "I've known you for over twenty years. I can tell when you're lying."

"So what if I am? It doesn't concern you!" 

"Doesn't concern me?" Remus had one card to play, one way he knew he could get Sirius to tell him the truth.  But he hated himself for ever needing to use it.

"Sirius, do you remember the last time you went and did something like this?"

Sirius nodded slowly.

"Well, after Dumbledore had seen to you, he came and spoke to me.  He told me that if you ever did it again, or if I just couldn't cope any more, he would find somewhere else for you to stay."

Sirius looked shocked, and was shaking his head, the movement so small it was almost unnoticeable.  He opened his mouth to speak but Remus cut him off.

"And no, he didn't mean Hogwarts.  He couldn't risk one of the students catching you.  He said the only other person who he could trust was Snape."

Now Sirius spoke.  "What?" He shouted, pushing his chair back.  "Snape!"

Remus looked on, impassive.  Every word of it was true, but he had told Dumbledore that Sirius' safety was, and always would be, his concern alone.  And it killed him to have to use it like this.  But this was the way it had to be.

"Sirius, understand that keeping you here puts me in danger too. If you're going to be a danger to yourself, there's no knowing what you might do to somebody else." With one look at Sirius' hurt face, Remus knew he'd gone too far.

"Moony no!" There was a note of pleading in his voice.  "I wouldn't…I'd never…you know I'd never hurt you…you know…"

"I know, I know," Remus placated.  

"Then why…why would you…it doesn't even concern you!" Sirius' voice and face were unreadable, betraying no hint of what kinds of emotions he felt.

"Yes," Remus' voice was steely.  "It does.  Do you think it doesn't concern me to sit back and watch my oldest friend slipping further and further away from me?  Do you think I don't care when I see you doing this to yourself?" He leaned across the table and yanked back Sirius' sleeve.  

Sirius still said nothing.  Now it was time to lay it all on the line.  Remus let out the words that had been building up inside him.

"That Halloween, I lost everything.  When James and Lily died, that was bad enough.  Harry was still alive, and so were you and Peter.  I had someone to share it with." 

Sirius was staring at him, transfixed.  Remus had never been the kind to open up before.  Sirius had always been the open one, the trusting one.  And now their roles were reversed. 

"But then I got the news.  Peter was dead and you, you had been arrested for his murder.  And that was it.  I lost my whole life that day they dragged you screaming and pleading into the fortress.  You were the last.  The last person I had left.  After that I lost my job, my girlfriends and my flat.  I spent two years going in and out of shelters and dirty, low-rent flats.  And in the years that followed, I think I found it in my heart to forgive you."

Sirius blinked and looked away.

"But for twelve years I believed that I was alone, so completely alone.  And I had no one to help me, no one to even care what was happening."

Remus reached out one arm from beneath the blanket, still wrapped cloak-like about his shoulders.  Sirius looked down and his eyes widened.  

On the pale skin of Remus' forearm, amidst the scattered, jagged scars of claws and fangs, were about a dozen straight white lines, to clean to be claws.  Sirius knew that on the other arm there were scars like these, but they were older, fainter, and barely visible.

"You see?" Remus continued. "I slipped, quite a few times as a matter of fact, but the last time I did it was just before I got the DADA job.  And I never once had what you do now.  I never once had anyone who cared enough to try to stop me from hurting myself, from drowning in my own grief. 

Now.  Why do you do it?"

"Because I…"  He faltered.  He knew he was just being stupid and stubborn.  That Remus wanted to help him.  _Hang on, didn't he just threaten to send you away? _ Sirius closed his mouth and shook is head.  He couldn't bring himself to open up.  Peter's betrayal, coupled with twelve years in Azkaban, had made it hard for him to trust people at the best of times.  And he hated himself for distrusting Remus, but that was the way things were.

"What?" Remus prompted.

"I need to go for a walk.  I'll be back later."  Remus shook his head.  Sirius stared for a moment, trying to look into his eyes and see what he was thinking.  But the eyes he'd once found as easy to read as an open book were blank and emotionless, closed to him.  Now it was Remus' turn to look away.

Sirius transformed and was out the door in seconds.  Remus watched him go, an unexplainable feeling of apprehension settling on his heart.  He held his head in his hands and closed his eyes, exhausted.  

"What now?"

A/N: *counts pages* 1,2,3,4,5…and I'm spent.  Wow, absolutely nothing happened in this chapter. How stupid. Oh well.  I think this chapter is setting up for something to happen.  Not sure what yet. Ideas and constructive criticism are most welcome. *pitifully shakes review tin again* Pweese? I'll give you a cookie.

Thankies to everyone who reviewed.  Iggie, blackmage718, Keeley (the leather pants!), Willowgyrl29, kat, k-da-great and everyone else.  *huggles*  


	5. Voices

A/N: Okay, Sirius goes slightly mental in this one and, while not much happens, I think it is setting up for something, I dunno. It better be. And the slight insanity will be explained and isn't permanent, I don't think. And while the relationship between S and R does appear to be more-than-friendly the way I see it is that these two people have been through a hell of a lot more than your average friends. And they were alone for so long I think they'd be quite a bit closer than friends now while still keeping a purely platonic relationship. Of course, if slashers wanna read something else into it that's fine with me. Interpret it as you will. Sorry about the delay. Enjoy! (I hope)

**Voices**

Sirius walked the streets restlessly, ignoring the nervous glances from passers-by. He didn't know where he was going, just that he needed out. Right now, he wanted only to run, to find somewhere secluded and just scream until his voice was spent. He wanted to break something, anything, simply for the purpose of watching it shatter into a million pieces. It beat feeling his own mind and sanity being taken apart piece by piece. But, of course, a dog can't scream, and it would draw too much attention to him if he started madly throwing himself at objects in a rage. Instead, he made his way to a vacant lot, covered over time by enough plant life to hide him from sight. A large tree grew in the back corner, it's leafless branches offering meager shade from the midday sun. He began to pace, slowly wearing a path through the weeds and dust. 

_What am I doing? Why don't I just talk to him? _His pace quickened and he snorted into the dust. _And then what?__ A voice reasoned. He'd heard this voice before, every time the dementors came in the last years at Azkaban. _It's not his problem. He doesn't care. _Sirius shook his head and lifted it slightly, so that his nose was no longer near the ground. _

_I should talk to him though. I just…I don't think I'd know where to start…I don't know why…_He began to paw nervously at the ground. _No, he'd just send you away. _ Sirius shook his head again and curled his lip. _He wouldn't. I know Moony. He doesn't give up, even if it's something he doesn't think he can change_. Sirius sighed and resumed pacing. _He might be right, I have someone who is willing to at least try to help. Even if I'm too stupid to let him. He had no one._

_And who's fault is that? You did it. They died because of you! He would never have needed anyone's help if it wasn't for you and your brilliant idea! You did that to him!_

Sirius snarled, the fur rising along his back. _No, it was Wormtail. I know it was! It wasn't me! It wasn't my fault!_

_Of course it bloody was! It was your idea. You said it yourself you as good as killed them._

Sirius snarled again. _No! It was Wormtail. He was the traitor._

_And who's idea was it to make him Secret-Keeper? Yours! You caused it. You killed them. And you left your only friend to face it all alone. And Harry. Your godson. Look at how he lives. With relatives who couldn't love him less if he was something they'd stepped in, with only other people's memories to remind him that his real family had existed. You almost let Wormtail kill him last year! He could have died! All. Because of. You._

He stopped pacing, one paw held midstep. Slowly, Sirius' fur flattened, no longer rising in anger. His paw landed with a crunch of leaves and a puff of dust and his head sank slowly until it was hanging between his gigantic forepaws. He sighed, defeated, his breath stirring the dust and dirt. _No…_

He slunk towards the tree. _They'd be better off without you. Everyone would. You should just get it over with._

A breeze stirred the branches overhead, making them creak. It caught at his coat like invisible fingers, toying with the soft black fur.  _I never wanted to hurt them...Remus knows that. Harry knows…_

Whimpering softly, deep in his throat, He collapsed onto the ground, leaning against the slender trunk of the tree. He closed his eyes, feeling the wind tug at his coat and the warmth of the sun filtering through the bare branches above him and let darkness take hold, filling his dreams with nightmarish images. 

Moonlight slanting through barred windows, the clanking of a door, the click of a lock. A thin figure, bent, hugging his knees and rocking against the wall. The memories were coming. A ragged cloak, a hand, grey skin covered in slime and scabs. Then a flash of green. James clutched at his cloak. He was gasping, his breath bubbling in his lungs. His fingers found Sirius's wrist and held, a grip so tight it had hurt. And then there was no more pain. James' hand fell away. He gasped, and did not exhale. A baby screamed, the cry mingling with thunder. And the rain fell on them both while Sirius cried.

The nightmare ended and Sirius snapped back to reality, his head jolting up off his paws. It was dusk, and Sirius blinked owlishly until his eyes grew used to the gloom. The few clouds that had dotted the sky that morning had been replaced by a single grey mass. Thunder rolled, low and distant, and tiny drops of water spattered the dust and leaves, landing on his coat in droplets that clung to the strands of fur like jewels. The wind had turned cold, and even covered by thick fur, Sirius felt it. That inner voice he'd battled with before was silent and he was alone in his head once more. 

Slowly, he got up, stretching his stiff limbs and yawning widely. With dark eyes Sirius watched the clouds above him. He didn't particularly like the idea of having to face the cold and rain tonight, but in his mind, he saw the prospect of having to face up to Remus as something even worse. Anyway, he reasoned, Remus would be dealing with another transformation tonight and wouldn't even know he was gone. Thunder sounded, closer and louder than before, and a dull white flash lit up the clouds on the horizon. The rain came down harder and Sirius bowed his head, slinking out from his shelter behind the bushes and into the street. 

~ * ~

Remus busied himself cleaning up the mess Sirius had left in the kitchen. Then spent the day alternating between worrying about where Sirius was and what he was doing, and worrying about where Sirius had been and what he'd done. This routine was only broken occasionally when he stopped to glance briefly at the clock or out the window, muttering to himself. Another time he might have found this funny. Even at Hogwarts he'd been "the mother hen" of the group. Worrying himself sick whenever one of them was late, or not eating, or seemed to be upset about something. At times he could be seen ushering Sirius into Potions class, or lecturing James when he tried to bullshit his way through Divination. 

But now the sun was setting and it was starting to rain, and laughter was the last thing on his mind. Remus stopped wandering aimlessly around the house to swallow the bitter wolfsbane potion and leaned against the kitchen wall, sliding to the floor. Where the hell was Sirius? It bothered Remus that he couldn't do anything. It was too late for him to go out looking for him now, so all he could do was wait out the night and see if Sirius came home.

"You ass," he murmured to himself, holding his head in his hands. "I shouldn't have told him I'd spoken to Dumbledore. He barely trusts anyone as it is. He should know I'd never desert him like that." 

But Remus had run out of time to think about that. He could feel the wolf stirring inside. It was time. Getting awkwardly to his feet, he turned and went upstairs to wait out the change.

~ * ~

The shower had become a storm, and cold rain was pounding the streets and rooves while the occasional dull boom of thunder and flash of lightning lit up the sky. Sirius was soaked and shivering. He broke into a run, his paws slamming the pavement, kicking up little sprays of water. There was no one out in this weather, and Sirius was free to go where he liked. It felt good to run, it kept the cold at bay and his mind occupied. The only problem was a lingering feeling in the back of his mind. This feeling had been there for the last couple of years, sometimes faint and barely noticeable, sometimes so strong he couldn't bear to leave the house. It had burdened him since his escape, the lingering cold of the dementors. 

Every now and then, as he sprinted through the streets, he would see a shadow loom in the corner of his vision, and his mind would start to panic. It was long, clammy fingers tugging at his fur instead of the wind. And the sound of the wind itself was raspy breathing, drawing in all warmth and light. And he'd shy away, slinking and weaving past the shadowy alleyways. But even as a dog Sirius couldn't run all night, especially with only a meager stolen meal all day. It was still raining when he slowed to a walk and made his way to a nearby park. He slunk through the shadows, forcing down his own fear of them and curled up in the only remotely dry place available; on the sand beneath the playground. He dropped his head on his paws and watched the rain, all the while thinking, wondering how Remus was going. Sirius felt guilty, he should have gone back, if only to take care of his friend during the full moon. _He'd be better off without you…You've left him alone again…The voice was back. And this time, Sirius didn't fight it._

~ * ~

It was nearing midnight and Sirius still hadn't returned. Remus made his way down the stairs, a constant fear gnawing at him. Sirius was so bloody impulsive when he was in his right mind, and now, when his mind was in so much pain, what would he do? Nightmarish images came unbidden to his mind and Remus shuddered, shaking them off. He couldn't think about what Sirius might do in a fit of anger or grief, he needed to forget about the gashes on his friend's arm, the darkness in his eyes. He had to be calm and rational and…and bloody hell, where was that ridiculous bastard! 

Fumbling awkwardly with his gigantic paws, he somehow managed to force the front door open. 

_He really is mad, _he thought grimly, suppressing a shiver as a gust of cold wind and rain greeted him. _He'd have to be to be out in this. He chose to ignore the other possible explanations his brain thought up as to why Sirius hadn't come home. Nosing the door shut behind him, Remus set off at a jog, easily jumping the low front fence and disappearing into the night._

The entire neighborhood seemed deserted. The windows were dark, the houses were silent, and Remus only encountered one other living creature. A small, ugly dog threw itself at a fence, gagging on his chain as he fought to get at the strange creature intruding on his territory. It was, of course, ignored completely. Remus moved on, occasionally letting out the strange half-bark, half-howl noise that was unique to werewolves in the vain hope that Sirius would reply. 

~ * ~

Sirius woke suddenly, looking dazedly around. He was breathing heavily and the sand was scoured with marks from his claws. He'd been dreaming of Azkaban again. The rain had eased slightly, but it was still heavy and the sand beneath Sirius' body was getting damp. He searched for the sound that had woken him, ears twitching and straining to hear past the drumming of the rain and wind. It came again. A familiar sort of howling, ending in a short bark. Remus was coming, looking for him. _He'll be angry. Sirius shook his head, shrinking back from the direction of the sound. __He wouldn't hurt me. Of this Sirius was certain. But the voice of doubt inside his head countered back, _no, but he'll send you away. Snape won't hide you. He won't protect you. You'll end up back in Azkaban. You know it. _Sirius's claws scrabbled in the sand in an effort to shrink back into the shadows, the only place he could hide. _No! _He stopped struggling and crouched, panting, glaring out into the rain. He wasn't going to go back to…That Place. No matter what. He'd die first. _

He waited, watching, listening. He crept forward until his head was out in the rain, squinting, trying hopelessly to see beyond the blackness. Remus howled again, closer now, and Sirius growled, barking into the darkness, telling him, in the only way he could, to piss off and leave him alone. 

Remus' ears twitched, picking up the low growl. He knew instantly who it was, and where it came from. But why? Why was Sirius growling, as though Remus were a danger, something to ward off? It didn't matter, he decided. _I promised. I promised I'd help him, no matter what. Whether he accepts it or not is his choice. _Remus barked again, trotting forward. Peering through the rain, he could just make out a dark shape cowering beneath a children's playground. _There you are! _Remus would have shouted if he could have. He was overjoyed simply to have found his friend alive and unharmed. Inwardly he laughed at himself for conjuring all the horrifying images of Sirius' demise and leapt forward. _Sirius you unimaginably infuriating bastard!  _

Sirius saw the grayish canine shape rush at him from the curtain of rain, his long plumed tail waving behind him. _He'll send you away…You'll be caught again…_Sirius moved forward to try to run, but he was too late. A massive grey head came into view. Two amber eyes blinked curiously at him. Sirius whined and scrabbled at the sand with his claws. Remus looked terrible. He was wet and his thick fur hung in strands over his thin body. He was panting from his run. He cocked his head and stepped back, startled by Sirius' reaction. Maybe he'd missed something. Maybe Sirius really was hurt. 

Taking advantage of this confusion, Sirius leapt past him, pushing him aside, and sprinted into the dark. 

_Why? _Remus shook himself, bewildered. But he only paused for a moment before giving chase. He began to panic again, his imagination taking over. The images returned as he struggled to guess where Sirius was headed, what he intended to do. One thing was clear. He didn't intend coming back. Remus called after him, but Sirius kept running, a vague shadow weaving through the rain. 

_He'll send you away. _

_No! He wouldn't! He didn't mean it!_

_He came out in this looking for you. He had to have a reason._

_He was worried. _Sirius faltered. It had never really occurred to him that Remus might worry this much about him. That he'd come out in this bloody rain after him, for any reason other than to carry out what he'd said that morning, or for some obligation he felt. It never occurred to him that that was why Remus wasn't eating much, or sleeping well. _He wouldn't send me away. He knows what'll happen._

_You're right. _The inner voice agreed, pausing before it continued. _And he's out here, in the freezing cold, chasing an idiot who does nothing but bring pain and death to anyone who cares for him. It'll be dawn soon. What if he doesn't make it back? What if he's found? The Ministry'll be on him in a flash. He'll be imprisoned. Or worse, destroyed. You know he hasn't renewed his registration. _Sirius glanced back over his shoulder. Remus was still there, following him relentlessly at a distance. He hadn't been running for hours before like Sirius. He could keep going until dawn if he had to. Sirius, however, was beginning to feel the effects of the chase. His legs felt weak and his lungs were burning. _I shouldn't have run. Why did I run? _

_You can't turn back now. _

_Why?_

The voice gave no explanation. Sirius had always been far too proud for his own good sometimes. It was his nature. He didn't like Remus worrying about him so much. And he couldn't stop now, not after he'd behaved like this. It was almost dawn. Sirius could feel it. So could Remus. He struggled with the urge to go back. He had to make sure Sirius was safe. _I promised him._

_It's almost dawn. _

_I know that!_

_He'll be caught. He'll probably be killed. And it'll be all. Your. Fault._

_No!_

_Yes! He'd be better off without you. You know it._

Sirius didn't reply. He ran on. He had to find somewhere. Had to shake Remus off so he'd go home. There. There was an open garden shed across the road. He could leap over the fence and crawl in there. It was dark, and Remus wouldn't have the time to look for him. But Remus had been holding back. 

Sirius stopped at the sidewalk and   glanced over his shoulder. Remus was still a distance behind him. The rain had eased further and he could see easily now. But the werewolf put on a burst of speed and was soon beside him, panting slightly, wet and bedraggled. The clouds were thinning and in the east the sky was lightening, a pale grey. 

_If he doesn't leave now, he'll be caught._

_It's because of you. All because of you._

_What can I do? He won't leave. _The only sounds were the light patter of rain, the breathing of the two canines and the crunch of tyres on wet road. Sirius turned and saw two faint beams piercing the darkness, heading towards them.

_Do it. Do it now! He'll be safe then. You won't hurt him, or anyone else, anymore._

Sirius looked back at Remus one last time. Remus stood watching him, his head cocked to one side. _All right.__ Sirius told the voice. __I can't fight anymore. You win. And with a last burst of energy he leapt forward._

A/N: Sorry again about the lack-of-anything-resembling-interesting-stuff happening, but I promise something will happen in chapter six, which won't take as long to get up as this one. And any stuff up in regards to continuity and Sirius' reasons for stuff, my excuse is that Sirius has temporarily lost his grip on sanity and is irrational. Which is perfectly reasonable considering the circumstances I think. Cookies again go to the wonderful people who reviewed! I love you all! (I feel like gushing today) And Kirsty, I promise I will finish this, even if I get bored with it and if it takes years. Haha.

Oh and Frodo lives!! (wrong fandom I know, but my heart is torn two ways in that respect. And I just felt like saying it. o_O)


	6. It Never Ends not yet anyway

A/N: Whee! Another chapter. Jeez, for 5 pages it sure took a bloody long time to write.  I have no idea where this story is going, and almost gave up on it, or would have if I didn't know Kirsty would beat me to death with grapes and feed me to her geese *dodges grapes* Thank you once again to everyone who reviewed. *massive huggle* you all rock beyond comprehension.  And once again, this is not intended to be slashy, but some parts definitely could be read that way.  I don't intentionally write slash though, I just read it, so don't go flaming me if R/S isn't your thing.  I think they're better as friends but as I've said before, it's your choice to read it how you want.  That's the point of stories, isn't it? To be interpreted by the audience according to their own personal opinions and such (sorry, critical literacy in English. Bleh!) And now on with the angst! Angst angst angst! Yay!

Chapter 6:  It Never Ends

Remus stood at the side of the road, every muscle in his body tensed, ready to leap to his friend's aid.  But in his heart, he knew it was too late now.  It was all up to Sirius.  Now more than ever Remus cursed his wolfish form.  He needed to be human again, to speak, to scream, to explain to Sirius that he never meant to forsake him.  He wanted to explain.  But he had to wait for dawn to come, and only the barest hint of light on the horizon was visible.  Dawn would not come in time.  Everything seemed to slow down, unfolding before him.  Sirius glanced back, fixing him with a pleading gaze.  His massive black shape was silhouetted in the surrounding golden glow of the headlights.  Defeated, Remus let his body relax, his head lowered, still watching hopelessly as his friend's fate was decided.  

Sirius saw his friend relax and hang his head and immediately the voice faded to a mere background noise, easily ignored.  Thinking rationally for the first time in days, he made his decision.  He wasn't going to die.  Not like this.  He hadn't passed through hell and risked life and limb to meet his end with the bumper of a car.  He hadn't risked it all for Remus and Harry to leave them now, even if they may have given up on him.  He leaped back towards the spot where his friend stood.    

Tires screeching, the car swerved.  The driver wrenched at the wheel, trying to avoid the creature in the middle of the road.  Sirius jumped out of the way, claws scrabbling on the wet road as he maneuvered himself out of harm's way.    

_That unimaginable bastard! _Remus thought, tensing up again.  _That unbelievable prat! _He didn't know whether to be happy, or angry, or anything. But in that moment sheer elation took hold and he leaped forward, running towards Sirius, who was standing, gasping for breath, on the other side of the road.  But he never got that far.  He stumbled, slipping on the damp road.  The last thing he heard was the screeching of tyres and Padfoot's bark.  Light surrounded him and a burning pain flared in his side.  Then there was nothing.

The driver swore, still wrenching desperately at the wheel, fighting for control of his vehicle.  He felt an impact, something big hitting the front.  The bloody dog was on the other side of the road, barking itself stupid, so what the hell had he hit? 

~  *  ~

Sirius felt nothing.  He heard nothing.  No outside noises, or whispers in his head.  He only saw Remus lying in a bundle of damp grey fur in the middle of the road.  The car sped off into the night, and Sirius dimly registered the red glow of its taillights fading in the gloom.  

His legs were shaking with exhaustion and cold, but he forced them to carry him the small distance to his friend's side.  But that was all.  His legs folded under him and he collapsed on the road, his head resting on Remus' side.  There was blood on his fur and the wolf's hind legs were hideously twisted and broken.  Sirius whimpered, a pitiful, barely audible sound deep in his throat.  Remus shivered, violent tremors shaking his broken body, and Sirius' eyes snapped open.  He was alive!  His friend's side rose and fell with shallow, irregular breaths.  And despite being aware that each one could be the last, Remus' ragged breathing was the most beautiful sound Sirius had ever heard.  It gave him hope. 

Now he was faced with a major problem.  The faint grey light on the horizon had grown stronger, and dawn was approaching.  If Remus stayed here, he ran the risk of being discovered.  And some unsuspecting muggle would be faced with a half-man, half-wolf monstrosity, or simply find a half dead, completely naked man in the middle of their street. And it would take one glance for a wizard and they'd know.  The ministry would be alerted and Remus would be imprisoned.  And that was the best case scenario.

Thinking fast, Sirius transformed.  The first thing he needed to do was keep Remus warm.  He laid a hand gently on his side, feeling the wolf shiver in the cold.  Gritting his teeth against the chill wind that assailed his skin, he took off his shirt and cloak and gently wrapped them around the battered body.  Now he had to move, and move fast.  Still exhausted, he once more forced his body to work, slowly lifting the massive creature.  Sirius ignored the pain and began to walk, stumbling under the wolf's weight.  But he didn't make a sound of protest.

"I'm sorry Remus," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."  He couldn't think of anything else to say.  But he refused to let his emotions get the better of him yet.  He had to get Remus home.  The sky was getting lighter.  

At last, after what seemed like hours, Sirius stumbled through the gate, gasping for breath.  He was freezing, trembling with cold and exhaustion.  He somehow made it inside and upstairs.  Barely making it before his arms gave out, Sirius staggered into Remus' room and dropped the motionless form onto the bed.  Shock began to set in, and Sirius himself sat down on the floor, leaned his head against the bed and let blessed darkness surround him.  It was a long time before he heard the voice again.  He never even saw the first rays of dawn creep into the room.  

~  *  ~

The changes began slowly, with the thinning of fur, followed by the lethal claws retracting, leaving blunt nails and bloody fingers.  Paws lengthened into hands and feet, the long wolfish snout receded into an increasingly human face while sharp teeth shrank and shifted.  Soon the only visible traces of the wolf were a few scattered patches of thin fur and two tiny protruding canines.  These too vanished.

Remus was human once more, lying beneath Sirius' damp cloak.  The transformation may have erased all external traits of the werewolf, but it could not undo the damage.  Wounds reopened, bleeding again, and half-healed fingers weakly clenched on the blankets.  Remus' thin form shivered beneath the ragged cloak, but he didn't wake, not yet.

_Images flashed before his eyes, playing like silent movies in his mind.  Angry red scars marred pale flesh. The hand that bore them shook uncontrollably while the fingers were stained with blood. Dark eyes, void of tears, looked up at him from behind a curtain of unkempt black hair.  There was so much pain in those eyes…so much pain. But no tears. The knife glinted in the sunlight. Blood stained the blade and the grass around it. Sirius said nothing…_

_Black eyes glittered in the headlights.  The golden glow struck the droplets still clinging to black fur, creating a glittering aura of jewels around the defeated creature.  There was pain in those eyes, pain and fear.  But then they changed.  A light returned to them…_

_Tires screamed sending up plumes of water as the worn rubber sought a grip on the slippery asphalt. A deft leap and some fancy footwork and Sirius was safe. He leapt forward, joy and relief seizing his heart and driving away all else. He wanted to join Sirius, who stood on the other side of the road, safe, and so close, so very close…Light blinded him and agony flared in his side.  Bones crunched, the sound drowning out the frantic barks that seemed so far away…_

_Black eyes watched him, hovered over him…so much pain…  _

Bleary eyes snapped open.  Remus gasped, biting his lip in a futile attempt to block out the pain and the scream that was fighting to get out.  It hurt to breathe, it hurt to move, and his entire body seemed to burn with unbearable pain, but it was his legs that were the worst.  The bones had been shattered by the impact, and the transformation had caused them to shift, causing more damage.  It was an agony that burned into his brain.  He tried to breathe and pain flared in his cracked ribs.  Red flashes blazed across his vision and he bit down on his lip again, tasting blood.  One word filtered through the painful haze. _Sirius.__ He had to save Sirius. He had to protect him. It was his job. It was his responsibility.  Sirius wasn't himself.  Sirius was hurt. Sirius was…here.  _

~  *  ~

It was the sound of a pained gasp that first alerted him.  Sirius slowly opened his eyes, squinting as the early morning light assailed them.  He felt the blankets shift as a hand unseen clutched at them.  Slow and groggy and still cold, Sirius stood up, wincing as he placed his weight on his trembling legs.  His arms felt weak and useless and hung limp at his sides.  

Remus looked passed him, not really seeing, his hazel eyes glazed with pain.  He was breathing in shallow, rapid gasps and his hands clenched and unclenched on the blankets and cloak.  His lip was bleeding.  Sirius couldn't begin to imagine what kind of agony his friend was in.  He knew that, should a werewolf be injured in their canine form, that pain is increased when they become human again.  The bones shift, shrink, and joints reverse in the change.  Broken bones will splinter.  Tiny fractures will cause unimaginable agony.  Wounds will become deeper.  Sirius tried to ignore the deep gash on Remus' leg, protruding from beneath the cloak.  One of the bones must have punctured the skin when he'd changed. 

Remus groaned, squeezing his eyes shut against a fresh wave of pain. He smiled weakly though.  Somewhere in his mind, through the haze and the dizziness, he registered Sirius' presence.  And somehow, to him, this meant that even though he was hurt god knew how badly, it was going to be okay because Sirius was there and he was alright.  That was the whole point, wasn't it? And it felt good to know that he wasn't alone.  He closed his eyes and let blackness take hold.  The pain faded and his grasp on the blanket relaxed a little.  He felt a light touch on his arm, gentle and comforting, and he let his consciousness slip away again.

~  *  ~

Sirius placed a hand on Remus' arm, trying to offer some small comfort.  He felt the muscles relax beneath his fingers, and Remus began to calm down.  His breathing became a little less labored and he sank into unconsciousness once more.  It was a moment before the complicated nature of this situation finally hit home.  Remus needed help.  But if anyone found out Sirius was there, he'd be whisked away to Azkaban.  And Remus would soon follow.  That or he'd get The Kiss then and there, while he was crippled and helpless.  There was only one answer, really.  Dumbledore. 

Sirius reluctantly left the room. The voice had returned again, and Sirius paused.  _They'll really take you away now. You could have killed him. They won't let you stay. He sighed. He knew. There was no way they'd let him stay after this.  Remus could have died.  And it would have been his fault.  He clenched his fist and ignored the voice for now, but it was always there, a constant droning in his ears.  It didn't matter where he ended up now.  Remus was injured, because he was stupid and selfish.  And Sirius had to make it right somehow, no matter what happened to him after that.  _

With new determination, he walked towards the fireplace.

~  *  ~

It was only Madam Pomfrey's complete trust in Dumbledore that stopped her from running away from that house and turning them both in.  But she was an understanding woman, with a heart of gold, and if Albus said that Sirius Black was innocent, and that she would be safe, then who was she to argue?  He'd never led her astray before.  And Poppy Pomfrey could hardly bare the sight of anyone suffering unnecessarily.  So, while Albus took Black outside, she went to work. 

Her patient's whole lower body was mangled horribly, broken and bruised.  The legs would take a few days to mend, and there were several broken ribs that would take time to heal.  There were nasty cuts everywhere, but with a wave of her wand and a few choice words, they closed and faded and soon disappeared all together.  Once she had done what she could, she stood back, observing her patient.  He lay unconscious beneath the thick blankets, one hand still clutching Sirius' cloak.  She'd tried to take it, to throw the ragged, unhygienic thing away, but he had refused to let it go.  What could have happened to him? Albus had typically been infuriatingly vague in his explanation, but from the looks of it, he had been hit, hard, by something very large and heavy.  But that wasn't for her to find out.  Her job was completed for now and with a shrug, she turned on her heel and bustled out.

~  *  ~

"Sit," Dumbledore commanded.  Sirius sat. Dumbledore pulled up a chair for himself and sat opposite him.  He peered over his spectacles at Sirius, who was bent forward, holding his head in his hands.  Dumbledore sighed and shook his head.

"Sirius?"

He looked up slowly, staring blankly at the old professor through a curtain of tangled black hair.  Their eyes met, and Dumbledore was shaken by what he saw in them.  So different now from the last time they'd met.  

The first time he'd seen Sirius since his escape, there had been a fire in those sunken eyes that had been almost frightening.  It was bloodlust, rage, and desire for revenge.  There was very little else.  No compassion or fear ever entered that fearsome gaze, save for Harry and his friends.  Then, during the previous year, there had been a spark, a glimmer of hope for better things to come, and he would laugh again.  He had nothing but concern for Harry, and anger for what his godson had been put through, but there was no sign of the vicious, predatory rage.  

He remembered even further back, having Sirius and his friends in his office.  He remembered lecturing them, trying to keep his amusement hidden.  They obviously made no such effort, as they would grin proudly and snort with barely contained laughter, exchanging triumphant looks.  Sirius' eyes would shine then.  There had been a light there, in all of them.  But time has a way of smothering such things, and all those lights were fading.  

Sirius' dark eyes now reflected the barest of emotions.  Pain and guilt haunted the shadowed eyes, creating a blank void.  The eyes are the window to the soul, it is often said, and one looking into that haunting gaze would see that that soul was being slowly chipped away, and would never be whole again.__

"What happened yesterday?" Dumbledore broke the uncomfortable silence.  Sirius averted his eyes again.  His fingers strayed to his wrist, toying with his sleeve.  He'd had time to change before Dumbledore's arrival, and his arm was once again covered.  He made no reply.  He began to scratch idly at the bandage beneath the sleeve of his jumper.  He thought the old man didn't notice, but the sleeve rode up a bit with the movement of his arm, showing the tiniest bit of the rough bandage, stark white against the black material.

"Sirius," Dumbledore prodded.  That haunting, empty stare was fixed on him again.  Dumbledore peered at the man, blue eyes serious.  He nodded reassuringly and Sirius took a shuddering breath.

"I'm sorry," he began.

A/N: Stuff is actually happening now! Woohoo! It may not be all that riveting but it's stuff all the same. There ya go, Kirsty and Keeley, I did it. Another chapter. You happy now? *flees evil geese* And now for the obligatory pitiful shaking of the review tin. *pitifully shakes review tin* Pweese? Happy Birthday Sarah!


	7. Awakening

Sirius explained as best he could, tried to make Dumbledore understand.  He didn't need to be taken away.  He wasn't dangerous.  He shouted and pleaded, all the while trying to ignore the whispers in his head.

_Oh, but you are dangerous. He could have died. He still could die. It should have been you…_

Dumbledore just sat back, letting him speak.  He nodded, frowned, and spoke in the right places, and there was pity in his eyes.  

"Sirius, I am sorry about everything that you have been put through.  Everything you and Mr. Lupin have suffered.  But it is my responsibility to ensure the safety of all parties involved."

Sirius laughed.  One short, bitter laugh. 

"Now," Dumbledore continued. "I am aware of you and Severus' somewhat, er, hostile relationship," he said carefully.  "But he has kindly offered the use of his home in just such a case.  And I am sure you will find that –"

"Don't," Sirius spat, cutting him off. "Don't give me that."

 "Sirius, you must understand that –" 

He cut him off again. "My feelings for Snape are not _hostile.  _ They are feelings of revulsion, loathing and boundless irritation.  The bastard would turn me in as soon as he possibly could! He _knew _I was innocent that night, he knew! And he tried to have me killed. It could have ended there.  But because of him –" He paused, fighting to regain his composure.  "You may trust him, Professor.  But I don't."

Dumbledore nodded gravely.  "I do not deny that Severus' actions may have been a little…unnecessary.  But I am afraid, Mr Black, that you no longer have the luxury of choice."

Sirius blinked.  "What?"

"You were seen." He said. 

Dark eyes widened and Sirius' face paled.  His stomach lurched.

"Muggle police received calls from several people reporting your presence on their street at the time of the accident.  There is also the matter of damage done to a muggle car when it collided with a "wolf" last night." 

_They'll find you…and then they'll find him…_

"The Ministry has already been notified."  Dumbledore paused, trying to gauge Sirius' reaction.  The young man sat motionless, silent, hands gripping the edge of the table.  He didn't need to hear any more.  He knew what would happen.

_They'll come here…they'll find you…_

"Sirius?"

_And then you'll wish you'd stayed in Azkaban…at least then he'd be safe…_

"I will give you both two days to decide what to do." Dumbledore finished stood up.  "He will need you here, for tonight at least."

Sirius nodded dumbly, barely registering the words.  

_Dead?__ The voice laughed, harsh and cold. __Thanks to you, he'll be worse than dead._

~  *  ~

The next part was all a blur in Sirius' memory.  Dumbledore had promised to return in two days, and then disapparated with Madam Pomfrey.  There were some bottles and phials on the table, presumably for Remus, and a list of instructions for each.

Scooping them up, he made his way upstairs.  Remus was still unconscious, but Pomfrey had said that he would probably make a full recovery.  Only time would tell.  He needed rest, both mentally and physically.  

Sirius stood at his friend's side, looking down at him.  He was pale, bruised and looked far too thin, but the wounds were gone, and the blood had been washed away.  Sirius knew there were bandages, hidden by the blankets.  They would have to be replaced in the morning.

Some may have said Remus looked peaceful, or merely asleep.  To Sirius, he looked dead.  Ashen skin mottled with bruises, thin body motionless, lost among pillows and blankets. Remus was a corpse in Sirius' eyes. 

_…Dead? Ha! Thanks to you he'll be worse than dead… _

Dark eyes shone with tears, but none would fall.  Not now.  Hands clenched, driving nails into the soft palms.  Sirius slid to the floor, resting his head against the bed behind him.  It was all that held him up.  The smell of blood made him sick, as faint as it was, hidden beneath countless other aromas of potions, disinfectant, and the smell of rain and rotting leaves.  

_...they'll find you…it should have been you…they'll come_

_…worse than dead…___

He fought against the tears, against the screams, against the nausea that threatened to overpower his senses.  He drove his nails into his palms, he clenched his teeth.  He fought to stay calm.  His breath came in shaky gasps.  

…_because of you…Dead?__ Ha!…_

He could barely see.  He could barely breathe.  The cuts on his forearm stung, a painful reminder why he was here.  He pulled himself up on his knees, so that he could see.  Remus hadn't changed.  He slept on, so still, so pale.  A corpse.  

_…Because of you…_

The dam broke.  Guilt, overwhelming, all-consuming guilt weighed down upon him.  This was worse than before.  Worse than it was with James and Lily.  Worse than anything.  Remus could have died.  If the ministry got onto him, he could still be in danger.  Sirius had caused it. Remus had protected him, had cared for him, had offered him friendship and support where others gave none, and this was how Sirius repayed him.

"I didn't mean this to happen. I never wanted this," Sirius was crying, tears sliding down his face to fall unnoticed onto the blankets.  He was a grown man, he was a convicted criminal, he had been through so much without tears.  But he wept now.

"Please," he croaked.  "Please believe me.  I'd never hurt you. I'd go back to Azkaban before I'd ever think of hurting you."

He bowed his head.  Remus remained the same.  

Some people believe that their loved ones will hear them while unconscious.  But Sirius knew his cries went unheard.  He knew Remus would have woken, would have given some sign, had he heard any of his friends in such utter despair.

"I'm so sorry.  It's all my fault and I'm so sorry."  Sirius let his head fall onto his arms.  He heard nothing, he saw nothing.  His entire body was numb.  He knew there were tears on his face, knew that he was scratching at the bandages on his arm, but he felt none of it.  He heard only his own voice, whispering.

"I'm sorry.  I'm sorry.  I'm sorry.  I'm sorry –"

Minutes became hours, long and slow, while Sirius knelt at Remus' side.  His sobs calmed, and tears flowed silently down his face.  Soon his whispered apologies ceased and he began to doze.

*

It was the crying that reached him, the ceaseless, violent sobs that pierced the fog shrouding his mind.  There were words, yes, but they were lost to him. The voice was familiar.  It conjured memories of laughter and mischief, mixed with pain, and terrible sorrow.  However, the voice that reached his ears was none of these things.  It was the voice of utter hopelessness and remorse.  The voice of someone who has given up all hope of better things to come, someone who has sunk so far into despair that he is almost beyond saving.

Images played across his mind.  Black eyes shining with joy…red lines on white skin…a wicked grin…screeching brakes…those same eyes, haunted by guilt…a silhouette in the headlights…

Remus' eyes opened a crack.  The dim light assailed him, sending throbbing pain through his head.  His leg felt stiff.  He shifted awkwardly, turning his head, trying to take in his surroundings.  His room.  He was in his own bedroom, in his own bed.  Everything was blurry, and the room seemed to be rocking back and forth, but he could make out the shape at his side. Sirius slept uneasily, his head on his arms.  A slight breeze blew through the window, stirring the curtains.  There were tears on Sirius' face.

Remus opened his mouth, trying to speak, but his voice didn't seem to be working.  Everything was coming back.  That morning that seemed so far away now, the storm, the car.  

Another man may have felt anger, or resentment.  Here he was stiff and sore, unconscious for God knows how long, and the reason for it all slept inches away.  For Remus, anger would come later.  They were both alive, and relatively in one piece.  There was something else Remus held onto, that held off the bitter anger that would come.  At the end of it all, Sirius had chosen to stay.  He had chosen to live.   

Remus shifted again.  His limbs, newly mended, had been in the same position for hours and they begged to be stretched.  His head throbbed.  It was all terribly uncomfortable.

Sirius groaned and raised his head, blinking owlishly.  His vision was blurred, his eyes still clouded with tears.  His hair fell across his face, obscuring his vision further.  Something had woken him.  There was movement.  He could feel panic setting in.  Someone was here.  

He blinked again, brushing his hair out of his eyes.  Bleary hazel eyes looked into his own.  There was a moment of silence.

"Remus," Sirius began, intending to repeat his apologies.

Remus shook his head, cutting him off.  He didn't want to hear it.

Outside, it was a sunny Autumn afternoon.  The clouds had cleared.  Children were playing somewhere nearby, their laughter, barely audible, mingled with the other sounds of suburban life.

Inside the house, the two old friends sat together in silence.

A/N: Yes, I know it's short, shorter than the others especially considering how long it's been. Also, quite crappy and rushed, written after exams and I do believe my brain has forsaken me. I apologize. I really will try and finish this monstrosity sometime, honest! But not next week that's for sure. OOtP! Hoorah! Also, Work Experience. One wonderful week of finding out exactly what it's like to be a stablehand. *facepalm* Thanks again to everyone who took the time to review! *loffs*


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